


Double trouble

by Vault_Emblem



Series: Reynauld/Dismas/Tardif Fics [1]
Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: Dismas and Tardif have invited Reynauld to join them in bed and, after some hesitation, he says yes. Will it be worth it?
Relationships: Bounty Hunter/Crusader (Darkest Dungeon), Bounty Hunter/Dismas (Darkest Dungeon), Bounty Hunter/Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon), Bounty Hunter/Highwayman/Crusader (Darkest Dungeon), Bounty Hunter/Reynauld (Darkest Dungeon), Crusader/Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon), Dismas/Reynauld (Darkest Dungeon)
Series: Reynauld/Dismas/Tardif Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986550
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Double trouble

It took a while for all three of them the get there, in the room Dismas and Reynauld share. It all began when Dismas and Tardif started their “arrangement”, nothing that implied strings attached or anything else, just a way to blow some steam, then came Reynauld’s angry gazes after discovering what the two were doing, then the realization that those weren’t angry gazes but _hungry_ gazes.

And now here they all are, each in a different state of undress. Since Dismas and Tardif aren’t exactly exclusive to each other, inviting Reynauld in seemed the logical step to take, even though it took some time for the crusader to accept that invitation. He had a lot to think about after all.

“So… What now?” Reynauld asks, breaking the silence. He can’t shake the feeling that he is intruding, even though it’s been them that have invited him, so it makes no sense.

Dismas and Tardif look at each other. This has to be the first time Reynauld sees the bounty hunter without his signature helmet; he thought he would keep it on even during these situations. One could argue that the same could be said for him too, but at least Reynauld takes his helmet off from time to time!

“Well, we start having fun.” Surprisingly, it’s Tardif, the same person who’d rather grunt at you rather than speak a word, then one who replies. He can sense Reynauld’s hesitation, but it’ll take more than that to move him.

Dismas huffs. Screw it. He’s not here to fool around. He moves, settling on Tardif’s legs, cradling his face between his hands.

“We’re going to start,” he says, “Feel free to join when you feel like it.”

They start kissing before waiting for an answer, and Dismas has to stop himself from smirking at the agonizing sound that leaves Reynauld’s mouth. Serves him right for not showing any initiative.

Taking advantage on the fact that Tardif’s already almost completely bare, Dismas runs his hands from his shoulders, then down to his chest - which he playfully squeezes - and his hips, holding them in order to have enough leverage to rub himself on his thigh. The way he moves might be a bit more… let’s say performative, than usual, but what better way to induce Reynauld to participate by giving him a show? Also he may be getting a bit off the idea of being watched, but let’s not stop thinking about that too much shall we?

At least Tardif seems appreciative of Dismas’ actions, if the bulge he can feel with his thigh can tell him something. Dismas feels him press his tongue between his lips, which he eagerly parts, and he finds himself no longer in control, not when Tardif grabs his still clothed hips and begins to move him to his own rhythm. Usually Dismas would fight him a bit more for that, but he doesn’t feel in the mood for that today.

He shivers when he feels Tardif’s hands sneak under his sweater, caressing his skin, and he’s even more appreciative when he goes to remove that offending garment, tossing it on the ground, uncaring of where it lands.

It’s now that he feels a tentative touch - clearly not Tardif’s - against his heated skin. He pulls away from the kiss and turns around, only to find Reynauld staring at his back with fire in his eyes, tracing the scars on his skin with a brush of fingertips.

Dismas has little to no shame, but he’s always been a bit self-conscious about his body; his way of life didn’t exactly allow him to keep his body healthy and it shows, even though it’s also true that, since arriving at the Hamlet, he’s been eating more than he could ever afford, and he’s been exercising at the guild, meaning that he’s way fitter than he used to be. This doesn’t mean that his body isn’t scrawny - or old - anymore.

It’s never been a problem with Tardif because Tardif simply couldn’t care less about how he looks, but only about how eager he is. Given that it’s also big that the bounty hunter is allowing a thief such as him to look at him bare, without anything covering him, they have this unspoken agreement not to talk about appearances, _ever_.

With Reynauld, though, things change. Dismas doesn’t know exactly what his stance about aesthetics is, and even though he likes to pretend that he doesn’t care, deep down he fears that he might be put off by looking at him.

Despite his initial thought of not mentioning it, in the end he can’t help but to run his mouth anyway - they tell him it’s a problem of his.

“I hope you weren’t expecting anything better.”

“It’s perfect,” Reynauld immediately interjects, kissing him before he can say anything else.

Dismas certainly wasn’t expecting such behaviour, but he does feel relieved, because Reynauld isn’t the kind of man who would lie about this kind of stuff. He lies plenty about other stuff of course - like when he insisted he hasn’t “borrowed” Dismas’ canteen countless times - but not about this.

He soon falls mercy of Tardif and Reynauld whims. Thinking about it, it’s unfair that he’s one against two, but this isn’t a competition so it’s not like there is going to be a winner and a loser; actually, if things go as planned, Dismas would be the winner.

Having more than a pair of hands on him isn’t bad at all; actually, Dismas likes it quite a lot - it may also be because he’s at the center of the attention. While one busies himself on his front, the others takes care of his back, exploring and brushing against the skin, licking, sucking, marking his body as they please.

After Reynauld pulls away from the kiss, it’s Tardif’s turn to take possession of his lips, not even waiting for him to catch his breath. He’s more aggressive than the crusader, but Dismas doesn’t mind the change.

He groans when he feels someone - he can’t see if it’s Tardif or Reynauld - palm him through his pants, grabbing the bulge between his legs with a firm grasp. He wants to get undressed so bad, but pinned as he is he can’t even dream to move.

This doesn’t stop him from rubbing himself on Tardif’s thigh because at least he can get some friction like this. He hopes the sounds he’s making are enough to make those two airheads understand what he wants. Tardif once joked that he was more high-maintenance than a whore, but Dismas likes to think that he just likes being pampered a bit.

“You’re always so need,” Tardif mutters once he pulls away, looking amused. If _he_ was the one getting touched like Dismas is being touched right now, he wouldn’t be so smug about it.

He snakes his hand between the other’s legs, grabbing the erection trapped in his own pants. He smirks when Tardif hisses as he keeps palming him.

“Look who’s talking,” Dismas says then, smug because he knows he’s right.

Tardif growls, clawing at Dismas’ pants to remove them with force. He always does this when he gets provoked - it’s Dismas’ favorite pastime after all. He begins to laugh but he’s cut off by the bounty hunter’s lips; he’s clearly pissed that Dismas saw right through him.

Still, he can’t exactly complain when he feels a pair of hands on his ass, stretching his cheeks open to expose him. It’s obvious that Tardif is showing him off to Reynauld, and Dismas can’t say he minds. Again, he likes the attention.

It doesn’t take long for him to be turned around, so that Reynauld can appreciate his front too. Licking and biting is part of the appreciation, right?

He moans when Reynauld closes his lips around his nipple, sucking the pink nub to hardness - and it’s not the only hard thing on Dismas’ body. He reaches back with his arm, grabbing Tardif by the hair in search of something - anything - to hold onto. In the meantime the bounty hunter busies himself with biting the skin between Dismas’ neck and shoulder. It feels so good.

Once Reynauld gets tired of playing with Dismas’ nipples he goes back to kissing him, but this time he also grabs his hard cock, making the thief moan in his mouth. He’s being delicate, massaging the head with his thumb, but it’s still better than nothing. Dismas can do with slow starts; actually, he kind of expected it with Reynauld.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, is for Reynauld to break up the kiss and then ask him, with the most eager voice:

“May I use my mouth on you?”

Dismas really wants to comment on his choice of dirty talk - which isn’t dirty at all - but all he comes up with is a ragged _please_. He wants him so bad.

Reynauld smiles at him, that cheeky thing, and begins to leave a trail of kisses on Dismas body, travelling down until he’s face to face with the head of Dismas’ cock. His eyes don’t leave the other’s as he parts his lips, tongue darting to press against the slit, and Dismas shivers at the sensation. Inch by inch, the crusader begins to take more and more of his cock, until he brushes against pubic hair with his nose. It’s tearing Dismas apart.

He pulls out almost entirely, only to then push forward again, beginning to suck Dismas off in earnest while all the other can do is to grab a handful of his hair, holding onto him.

Tardif is being weirdly inactive, only lazily kissing Dismas’ back, but it takes a glance to understand why is that: he’s too busy observing what Reynauld is doing. If the hardness Dismas can feel against his ass is of any indication, he’s enjoying it.

This is already a lot, then Reynauld goes to cup his testicles with one hand, and Dismas’ entire body feels like it’s on fire just from Reynauld’s ministrations.

He almost doesn’t notice Tardif leaning in from behind, but he hasn’t survived this long by being unaware of his surroundings.

“Are you going to come?” he asks, his words sounding more like an accusation that makes Dismas shiver - that’s not because of his deep, sultry voice, not at all.

He feels him smirk against his neck, but before he can say anything Tardif bring his hand down, going to circle his perineum with one digit.

“Or maybe not,” he continues then, pushing one finger inside, raw, and despite all the distractions, Dismas still picks on the amusement in his voice, “After all, you always need more to come, don’t you? If you don’t get something up your ass, you’re never happy.”

With his free hand he goes to grab Dismas’ chin - making him gasp - in order to keep him from moving his gaze from Reynauld, who’s sporting an expression he’s never seen on his face.

“Show him,” Tardif growls, “Show him how much of a slut you are.”

“Rey--” Dismas calls out, but he’s interrupted by Reynauld himself, who after pulling away from Dismas’ cock - much to his frustration - presses their lips together in a bruising kiss, eating up all the moans that escape Dismas’ mouth as Tardif keeps moving that single finger inside him. It burns, but not enough to make this unpleasant. Actually, Dismas likes it this way, and Tardif knows it; that’s why he does it - and for his own amusement of course, because he’d never to something out of the pure goodness of his heart.

Dismas ends up not only with Tardif’s fingers inside him, but Reynauld’s as well. He twists and moans as they prod inside, now aided by oil because even if Dismas likes the stretch, he’d like not to break anything thank you so much.

His voice is hoarse from all the moaning, and his lips have been passed from one to another like a flask of alcohol - they’re all red and swollen, abused.

If they keep it up like that, Dismas is going to come, and they’ve already forbidden him from doing so - he still hasn’t forgiven Tardif for closing his huge hand around the base of his cock right when he was so _close_ \- and he knows he won’t be able to handle it if they do it again.

“Hurry up,” is all he can think about saying. At least thankfully the other two understand the urgency he wants to convey.

“Mmh…” Tardif presses himself against Dismas back. He can feel his breath against his neck. “You want it?”

A huff leaves Dismas’ lips. He’s getting impatient.

“Yes! Yes I want it! Can we get on with it now, please?” He’s getting very impatient.

Neither Tardif nor Reynauld move yet, both probably wondering about the logistics. It’s Tardif that comes up with an idea, whispered right to Dismas’ ear, but loud enough for Reynauld to hear it as well.

“Then how about we let Reynauld fuck you? He’s the guest after all.”

Dismas’ gaze - he’s finding it hard focusing on anything - turns to the crusader as he nods. “Rey?”

“ _Please_.”

Reynauld’s voice comes out like a prayer, so desperate. Dismas would’ve chuckled at him if only he wasn’t feeling the same exact way.

They turn him on his side with an ease that is to be expected from two strong men like them - and it’s not like Dismas weighs all that much anyway - then Reynauld lifts one of his legs, letting it rest on his shoulder. As he lines his hard cock over Dismas’ entrance, it’s obvious where things are going.

Dismas feels particularly exposed like this, but he can’t say he minds, not when he feels a familiar stretch as Reynauld pushes in; he can’t hold back a long moan. He’d push down to meet with the other’s movements, but given their position and the way he’s been held it’s hard for him to do so, or at least it requires an amount of coordination that he can’t possibly conjure at the moment.

He feels lightheaded, but he’s sure he’ll get over it soon, right? Of course not.

Reynauld proves him wrong immediately, because first of all he gives him the bare amount of time to get used to the intrusion - he does resume touching his cock again, lightly masturbating him, which Dismas appreciates though - and second, he begins to ram into him with such a strength that Dismas’ entire body gets pushed by his momentum.

It’s not even that he’s unused to this sort of treatment, because this is exactly how Tardif goes at it. Dismas supposes that he was expecting Reynauld to be more gentle, that’s it. He was clearly wrong.

Not that it’s a bad thing, of course. Actually, Dismas’ quite enjoying himself if all the noises he’s making are of any indication.

He gets distracted when he feels something poke against his cheek. As he turns his head around, he can see that it’s Tardif’s cock.

“Well? Are you going to make yourself useful?” the bounty hunter asks.

If Reynauld hadn’t been fucking him so well that he’s melting his brain, Dismas would’ve replied with something sarcastic, but as things are now all he does is to part his lips, allowing Tardif to thrust inside his mouth with wanton abandon.

As soon as he remembers how to move, he begins to bob his head, eager to help, but it’s hard to keep focus when Reynauld’s doing such an excellent job on the other side, so eventually Dismas settles on simply relaxing his throat and letting Tardif do the work.

“Isn’t he a sight?” Tardif asks, clearly talking to Reynauld, and goddamn, for how much he likes to keep quiet on every other occasion he sure is talking too much, isn’t he? And if Dismas lets his teeth scrape against the soft skin of Tardif’s cock, making him hiss in pain and grab his hair - muttering a “watch it” as a warning - could you really blame him?

Of all this, Reynauld notices little, or at least he seems too taken with what he’s doing to care about the other two’s squabble. His movements have gotten more frantic than before, which makes Dismas believe that he must be close. He does his best to meet his thrust while still keeping up with Tardif to make things easier.

It’s all spiralling out of control, a whirlwind of grunts, moans and passion. It’s so easy getting lost inside it.

It’s like they’ve planned it, because Reynauld and Tardif come at the same time. It looks like a scene coming from a brothel, with Dismas mouth and ass full still getting fucked by the two.

Actually Tardif soon pulls out, and Dismas has to spit the cum he hasn’t swallowed or else he would’ve chocked on it. He’d take a deep breath if only Reynauld hadn’t tightened his hold on Dismas’ cock, jacking him off like no tomorrow; it’s so overwhelming that it hurts, and Dismas is getting closer and closer to the apex.

Like it happened so many other times, however, it’s words what really do it for him: Tardif has leaned down again, towering over Dismas, and he’s smirking as he whispers in his ear.

“Yes, like that. Show Reynauld how good you look when you come. I know you want to show it.”

While he talks, Dismas is keeping looking at Reynauld, holding the other’s gaze. There’s such a hunger in his eyes that Dismas can only surrender himself to the will of his two lovers, and with a last moan he finally comes.

He can’t even begin describe how it feels. It’s so _intense_. His whole body has gone rigid and Dismas wants to scream, but nothing comes out of his mouth no matter how hard he tries to push it.

He can’t even tell how long it lasts, but it certainly feels like forever. And it keeps going. And it keeps going. And it keeps going.

Dismas sees white.

When he comes to, his head is on Tardif’s lap, while Reynauld’s lying on his side, idly caressing his arm. Did he really pass out or did it just feel like he did?

“H-Hey…” he mutters, groaning as he tries to move his body - all his joints hurt he really is getting to old for this.

Even though he’s not looking at him, he can feel Tardif’s smug grin - a clear contrast with Reynauld’s more worried expression - as he speaks.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

As he turns his gaze up to meet his, Dismas manage to pull out the most deadpan expression he can come up with - which is pretty good if he can say so himself.

“Ah. Ah. Very funny.”

“Are you alright, Dismas?”

He really wants to chuckle at Reynauld’s concern; it’s quite cute. Still, he feels like he’d only offend him if he does, and he really doesn’t want to ruin things right now.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he replies, making the ok sign with his hand, “You completely wrecked me and I loved every single moment of it.”

Tardif just straight up laughs; he tends to do that often when he’s not on the job, and by that Dismas means when they’re sharing a bed, because outside that he’s _always_ on the job. Reynauld, although not taking part into that show of hilarity, still looks relieved and amused.

“Well, this was…” he begins, trying to come up with something to say. Dismas can’t help but to smirk at his lack of words. Another job well done.

“You can say it was good,” he teases. Now it’s Reynauld’s turn to smirk.

“And stroke your ego? Light forbid…”

That earns a chuckle from Tardif - this time more like one of those snorts he makes - and Dismas glares daggers at the traitor.

“Well, at least you could have the decency of stroking something else if you-- agh! Not now!” His cock is still too sensitive, and as Reynauld goes to grab it, just as Dismas has asked - even though he wasn’t serious c’mon it was obvious - all he can feel is pain, and not of the nice kind.

This time Reynauld joins in with the laughter as well, and Dismas seriously considers leaving the two oafs alone since they get along so well… That is if he could move his legs.

“So…” Tardif begins then, getting serious, “Is this going to become a thing, or…”

“Well,” Reynauld replies, suddenly very aware of the circumstances that brought them to this, “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“Impose,” Dismas replies, like he’s suddenly become crazy, “If you would’ve imposed, we would’ve had invited you in, you know? This wasn’t a pity case.”

“I--”

“I don’t mind,” Tardif interjects, leaning closer to Reynauld and using one hand to turn his scruffy face so that they’re looking at each other, even though it seems like he’s observing him. He smirks, challenging. “Who knows, maybe next time you’ll be the one with his legs spread open.”

There’s immediately a new shine in Reynauld’s eyes at those words.

“We’ll see,” he replies, returning the challenge. Oh, Dismas would love to see this.

“Well then,” he says still, because he’ll be damned if he gets left out, “Seems like I could leave you two gentlemen to it, if you don’t need me around…”

Tardif and Reynauld turn to look at him, then at each other, and Dismas shouldn’t like the way they must’ve perfectly understood each other with that simple glance - because he might not survive it if they actually begin to work together - but damn if he isn’t intrigued.

He stops thinking when Reynauld kisses him, though he’s surprised by how softer he’s being this time - it’s good.

“I don’t think I’ll let you go this easily,” the crusader says when he pulls apart. He’s joined by Tardif, who runs a hand from his cheek to his neck. He doesn’t squeeze, but Dismas can still clearly feel like a presence against his skin.

“Me neither,” he says then, for a moment he looks about to add something, but changes his mind at the last moment. It’s still enough.

And Dismas can’t stop moving his gaze from him to Reynauld, all with a big smile on his face, knowing that, whatever will happen, it will certainly be fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about writing a sequel in the future about what Tardif told Reynauld. We shall see...


End file.
